


Little Ghost On The Rooftop

by robindrake93



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Bad Jokes, Breaking and Entering, Danny Fenton Is A Dick, Dash Baxter Has Anger Issues, Dash Baxter Is His Own Warning, First Kiss, M/M, One Shot, POV Third Person, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:07:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29501079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robindrake93/pseuds/robindrake93
Summary: Dash wants to escape to the rooftop but someone is already up there. Spoiler alert: it's Danny.
Relationships: Dash Baxter/Danny Fenton
Comments: 9
Kudos: 90





	Little Ghost On The Rooftop

**Author's Note:**

> If you don't like the font color, just click "Hide Creator's Style" up at the top. 
> 
> Don't reupload/repost my fics.

By the time his senior year of high school rolled around, Dash Baxter had broken into Casper High over a hundred times. If you could call it breaking and entering when you had a copy of the key. He went in through the delivery door on the side of the building, since it wasn’t in direct view of the main road. The lights and heater were off, the hallways empty, making the school lonely and cold. It didn’t feel any more haunted than the rest of Amity Park. 

Dash went up three flights of stairs. He had a key to the roof door too. It took a little bit of shoving to get the door open because it had snowed the other night and the snow was piled against the door. He was strong and the door budged after a couple of seconds. Cold air rushed into the stairwell. Dash sucked in a breath of crisp, cold air as he stepped onto the school roof. 

The school was the subject of many ghost attacks and the roof wasn’t exempt from this. The wall running along the edges of the roof was broken in several spots. One spot in the back was the size of two people shoulder to shoulder. It was Dash’s favorite spot to sit and look out at the city. He made his way across the roof to the spot and stopped. 

A thin shimmery blue trail of smoke rose up to the sky. Dash’s first thought was that someone left a lit cigarette up here and it was smouldering in the snow. But there was nothing on the snowy roof that Dash could see. And the smoke wasn’t even coming from the roof itself, but about a foot above the roof. The obvious answer was that there was a ghost in the area. 

Dash cast a nervous look around. He was three stories up; if a ghost got frisky, it was a long way down. He swallowed. Should he go back down? Dash had come up here looking for some peace away from home but if there were malevolent ghosts around, then it would be wise to leave. He took a step backward, suddenly aware of how loud his boots were crunching the snow. He stared at the spot the smoke rose. 

Danny Fenton appeared in the time it took Dash to blink. One second there was nothing, the next Danny blinked into existence. He lay on his back in the snow, wearing a sleeveless hoodie and black jeans. His short black hair fanned out around his head like a halo. In his right hand was a cigarette. Danny stared up at the starry sky through a cloud of smoke. His blue eyes glowed faintly. 

A chill that had nothing to do with the cold weather went through Dash like ice water flowing down his limbs. Where did he come from? Did...did Danny have ghost powers? How was that possible? Was he sick with the ghost bug? 

Danny didn’t look sick. He took a drag off the cigarette, lighting up the cherry on the end of it. The smoke he exhaled smelled acrid. He looked too young to be smoking. He looked like he was still fourteen. It was like he didn’t age… 

Dash suddenly knew. “You’re Phantom?” Despite how softly he said it, Dash’s voice sounded loud in the silence of the roof. 

Danny didn’t start at Dash’s voice, just tipped his head back to lock eyes with him. His faintly glowing blue eyes suddenly shifted into a bright neon green. Phantom’s eyes. “The rumors you have a brain are true,” Danny mocked like the little shit he was. He always knew exactly how to get under Dash’s skin, how to make every encounter unpleasant. 

Embarrassment and shame rose within Dash. He wanted to be more than a big, dumb jock...even though that was the stereotype that Dash played to. He was not as stupid as everyone thought. His face heated with a blush. “I’ll tell someone,” he threatened, though Dash had no intentions of telling anyone Danny’s secret. 

Danny’s expression didn’t even give him a cursory flicker of fear. Actually, he almost looked amused. “No you won’t,” he said, confidently. 

Dash didn’t like that he was so transparent to Danny. When did that happen, anyway? He shifted on his feet. “How do you know?” 

“Because I’m your favorite.” Two rings of light traveled over Danny’s body and suddenly it was Phantom lying in the snow. The snow around him creaked as frost crept over it. Phantom grinned up at Dash, showing off sharply pointed canine teeth. Then the lights traveled over his body and it was just Danny lying in the snow again. 

Dash didn’t like being called out. Danny’s confidence in how Phantom was Dash’s favorite made him think of how often he’d publicly fan-boyed over Phantom. It did nothing to temper his humiliation. “I’ll tell them about the cigarettes,” Dash tried again, because he was pretty sure that Manson and Foley didn’t know about this habit. 

Danny narrowed his eyes, confirming Dash’s guess that his friends didn’t know. He flicked his ashes into the snow beside him. “No. You won’t.” His voice was hard. 

“How do you know?” Dash asked, hating how childish it sounded. He was eighteen for fucks sake. This was a stupid conversation. 

“Because I’m your favorite,” Danny said. This time, there was no flash of light and anti-climatic reveal. Danny just grazed his cheek with the back of his hand, highlighting what Dash knew was a fading bruise around his eye. 

Dash knew because Dash was the one who put it there. Danny was right on both counts. Phantom was his favorite ghost, his favorite hero, and Danny was his favorite punching bag. Reflecting on his actions over the years, Dash’s guilt and shame grew. All of the times he wailed on Fenton while exalting Phantom...thinking about it made Dash a little sick. 

“Why are you up here, anyway? Not planning on taking the fast way down, are you?” Danny asked. His tone had changed to something dry, his voice almost scratching along Dash’s nerves. 

Dash shoved his hands in his pockets so that he wouldn’t hit Danny while he tried to figure out if he’d been insulted again. When Danny’s words did finally click, Dash’s eyes widened in surprise. “No!” He frowned at Danny. “Why would you even ask that?” 

Danny took a drag from the cigarette before answering. He blew the smoke out his nose. “There are enough ghosts in Amity Park as it is.” His eyes slid to Dash. “It’s the middle of the night and I bet no one knows you’re here.” 

“I could say the same about you. Does anyone know _you’re_ here in the middle of the night?” Dash’s hands began to cramp from how hard he was clenching his fists. 

“I’m already dead,” Danny said flatly. “My powers would save me anyway. But you? You don’t have ghost powers _and_ you have a _lot_ of issues.” He flicked the ashes into the snow again, casual as could be. 

“Fuck you,” Dash said, voice tight. His arms shook. 

Danny snorted. “I figured that was part of your problem. Poor little pent up Dashiel, thinking violence is the only way to get close to the other boys.” The disdain in his voice was as clear as the night sky above them. 

Dash never understood how Danny could find his weaknesses and cut right to the heart of them. The truth of Danny’s words bypassed Dash’s armor and struck him someplace raw and tender. Dash’s response to pain was always to mask it with anger and now his blood ran so hot that he was sweating in his letterman jacket. He withdrew his hands from his pockets, knuckles aching for the smack of skin against them. Dash wanted to color the pristine snow with Fenton’s blood. The anger blanked his mind like the snow blanketed the roof and the next thing that Dash knew, he was on top of Danny, straddling his hips, a fist pulled back. 

Danny looked up at Dash, cigarette between his lips and blue eyes glowing faintly. The glow made it look like there was something in Danny’s eyes, some sort of life, but the longer that Dash looked, the easier it was to see behind the glow and into...nothing. Danny’s eyes were as empty and hollow as the glass eyes of a teddy bear. He blew smoke in Dash’s face. 

The smoke burned Dash’s nose and eyes. He snorted and shook his head, temporarily distracted from his anger. Maybe he would tell Manson about the smoking just so Danny couldn’t do this again. 

“You’re too easy,” Danny said. Ice grew over the cigarette, snuffing it out. He flicked the frozen cigarette away. Then he sat up and kissed Dash. 

Kissing Danny was like kissing snow; his lips were cold and wet, yet firm. Except he tasted gross, like the cigarette he’d been smoking. This wasn’t how Dash pictured his first kiss with a boy and it wasn’t how he’d ever fantasized about kissing Phantom. Danny’s hands came up to cup his cheeks, bare fingers chilled and almost blue with the cold. For all that he was cold and tasted acrid, Danny knew what he was doing. 

Dash pulled away first, breathing ragged and face flushed. His head and his heart and his body were all pulling him in different directions. He couldn’t begin to process how he felt, so Dash rolled off of Danny and into the snow. He let the snow cool his temperature, cool the anger and the arousal. He stared up at stars glittering across the velvety black sky and tried to put his thoughts in order. 

Danny remained sitting up. There was no flush on his smooth porcelain face. He openly watched Dash with an air that said he was waiting for some sort of response. 

Though he didn’t know why he felt compelled to find something to say, Dash did, and it sounded stupid even before it left his mouth. “You need a mint.” Dash thought that his eyes were wide with shock but he was beginning to go numb and couldn’t tell. 

Danny laughed. No malice, no mockery, not at Dash’s expense. Just a normal laugh. “I’ll remember that for next time,” he promised. Danny laid back in the snow beside Dash. Their shoulders touched. 

“Next time?” Dash asked, voice small and wondering. He kept his eyes on the sky. Danny’s laughter made his heart swell and his chest constrict and butterflies flutter in his stomach. He wondered what it would be like to kiss Danny while he was laughing, to taste that joy. 

“Yeah. If you want there to be a next time, anyway.” Danny’s arm shifted. 

The fine hairs on Dash’s arms raised with proximity. He glanced down, saw that Danny had moved his hand so that it was close to Dash’s. Close enough for Dash to hold, if he wanted to. For a few moments, Dash only replayed their conversation in his head, trying to figure out if he’d taken it the wrong way. He didn’t think so. Danny had meant to get under Dash’s skin. But wasn’t that what Dash did to Danny? Get under his skin? Force him to pay attention to him? 

Dash swallowed. He slowly, delicately, laced his fingers between Danny’s. The cold he expected, and he even sort of expected that Danny’s fingers were thin and knobby like twigs held together with sinew and flesh. Danny’s hand was very, very small in his. 

As though reading Dash’s mind, Danny said, in a voice so soft that Dash barely heard him, “I do age. Just very, _very_ slowly. I might look fifteen by the time you’re thirty.” 

Dash risked a glance at Danny. 

Danny’s expression was sad, frustrated, and long-resigned. This was something he’d come to terms with before tonight. Now he was asking Dash if that was alright. Because Danny - and by extension, Phantom - wasn’t perfect no matter how much he looked or acted like it. 

Dash squeezed his hand. He imagined being thirty, with a man who looked like a teenager still on his arm. A lot of men did it with real teenagers. And as he got older? When he was sixty and Danny looked sixteen? Forget what Dash thought, how would Danny feel about being with an old man? “I’d die first.” 

Danny snorted. “Uh, I’m half dead. I already _did_ die first.” He squeezed Dash’s hand back. “As long as I have a human partner, I’m going to outlive them.” 

“Maybe I’ll become a ghost,” Dash said, only half joking. 

Danny turned his head to look at Dash. His grip on Dash’s hand suddenly got tight. “I sincerely hope that you don’t. Traumatic, painful, sudden death is the _only_ way to become a ghost.” 

Dash’s mouth went dry. He nodded because he didn’t have the capacity to think about all that entailed about Danny’s death. 

They fell into a surprisingly easy silence, just laying on the roof and stargazing together. It was just the sort of romantic thing that Dash really loved and he soaked up the moment. 

But really, he only made it about ten minutes before the cold really seeped into his clothes and made him start shivering. It didn’t help that Danny’s hand was sucking all the heat from Dash’s. 

Danny noticed the way Dash violently shivered and smiled. He sat up. “Let’s get you inside. I forgot it’s too cold out here for you living folk.” Danny floated up off the ground, still holding Dash’s hand. “C’mon, Dashiel, let’s see if you can warm me up.” This was said with a wink. 

The innuendo made a blush rise to Dash’s face. This time it was a good flush. Dash suddenly saw the rest of their lives playing out like this. Little inhuman quirks on Danny’s part, the way that Danny could get under his skin in a good way. Dash allowed Danny to pull him to his feet. 

Hand in hand they went back into the school building.


End file.
